


Not Yet Tomorrow

by threewalls



Series: Leave-taking [2]
Category: Swordspoint Series - Ellen Kushner
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Drugs, Goodbyes, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Medieval Medicine, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-20
Updated: 2007-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Alec is responsible and Richard distracting-- of course the world is ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rm (arem)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arem/gifts).



> Written for rm, who has been brilliant responding to continuing developments in Strikethrough '07 and whose confident, articulate voice I have been grateful to hear throughout it.

Drunk on poppy juice for the pain, Alec talked incessantly, changing tangents like a swallow mid-flight. One moment, he was speculating about his surgeon's (poor) chances as a seamstress, the next, he was demanding to know what could be done about blindness.

Chadwick, who had not visited them for some time, spoke hesitantly of patches, and then of canes, and finally, "my Lord, are you--"

Tremontaine laughed, artlessly, arrogantly, said something about the common fate of degenerates that Richard did not quite hear over the rushing of his own blood-- but it worked. Chadwick retreated after the usual instructions, pleasantries and leave-taking; the door-latch clicked home.

Richard stood where he was, waiting.

Alec remained lounging in bed where Chadwick had attended him. He fidgeted, wriggling under the blankets, fastening and unfastening the buttons at the neck of his nightgown. Shortly, he began to make noises like he meant to speak, but didn't; Richard unbuckled his sword belt and scabbard, and set them flat in front of a row of Alec's books.

Alec's bandaged hand was trying to form a fist. Richard took it in his own, feeling for the shape of the bones beneath the cloth and gently forced the fingers open again. "You'll pull the stitches," he said, and Alec threw his head back onto his pillow.

"I thought a surgeon would know... something, you know? That's what they're for. What good are they-- what good is any of this--" Alec gestured their still linked hands at the brocade curtaining the bed, the silk sheets, the ducal ruby hanging around his neck, "if I can't--"

It wasn't an apology for risking Richard's secret, but Richard had known Alec would not let that lie. What he had done was more subtle than Richard had expected and that brought its own relief. Richard thought that he hadn't expected Alec to save him the last time, and didn't now, but he didn't think Alec would find that as comforting as he did.

Richard knelt beside the bed and kissed Alec's knuckles, the four that were hidden, and then the four that were unbroken, and allowed Alec to slip his thumb into Richard's mouth. It tasted a little like ink, and a little like sugar. Richard tried, with no success, to remove any of his clothing without standing. Alec giggled, and shifted further across the bed, where he occupied himself turning down the blankets and hitching up his nightgown.

Alec complained that he was cold as he watched Richard undress, and then with a sulky flourish, began making himself warm without waiting for Richard to join him.

When Richard did, he moved Alec's hands to lie beside his head, and held them there as Alec mock-struggled, whispering that he had meant what he had said earlier about the stitches. Alec hooked his cold feet up over Richard's warmer calves, and struggled some more, tipping his head to allow Richard better access to his collarbone.

This was not Richard's good-bye, though that would come soon. Hopefully, while Alec was sober. For now, Richard was content to use his hands, his mouth, his body to push Alec from panic into sweet, feverish languor.


End file.
